


I'm burning, I'm drowning

by Juneocean



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Blood, Church Sex, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Smut (chapter 2)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-06 15:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12213603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juneocean/pseuds/Juneocean
Summary: “Tell me Cass.” Jesse exhales, there is a slur on his words, similar to the way his lips expulse the smoke from the cigarette between his fingers. “What d'ya need then?”





	1. Chapter 1

The sun is setting, nothing special in more than a century.

Just the sign he can walk freely, past the shadows, past the rays, and prying eyes observing the guy who wears a poncho in the middle of the Texas summer heat.

The night is colder, not as cold as Dublin, those nights you could freeze your balls off. People thought vampires were somehow immune to cold. They weren't, they could still feel.

Feel. Somehow that kept him going.

And now it was stopping him.

 _The Preacher._ He was the cause of this. He just wanted a bloody fucking beer after trying to be murdered for the nineteen time that week. Thought a preacher in a bar was pretty joke-worthy, he hadn't seen one in them since visiting Ireland on the Great Depression.

Somehow the bottle one he is holding is better than the one he had. The person who is a few meters off him making the cheap off-brand beer better.

“Do yer think someone would want to be with a vampire, Padre?”

He doesn't know why he asks him that, in the silent comforting night of the empty church. Now that is even broken, the question is out of his lips before he can even formulate it correctly on his head.

“Seems popular with they ladies. Doin' novels and movies…” The man next to him gives a low chuckle, the sound of liquid traveling through a bottle, and then gulping.

“Thet’s not what-”

And now his lips are controlling his words. Shutting them in, stopping for correcting him in what he doesn't even know what's even still right.

The silence falls, as the night does too. It must be later than midnight, the moonlight passes through the church windows. Jesse is looking at the front, dark eyes posing somewhere on the altar. He doesn't let his dress shirt unbuttoned, the collar contrasting his sharp jaw. Cassidy can see his stubble lightly wet, by the cheap beer and whiskey he managed to find in the cabinets.

Cassidy had sat in the pews at the sunset, and Jesse had found him drinking silently at night. He had acted surprised, but Jesse knew Cassidy didn't believe his bullshit excuse of being there to clean the altar after mass. It's as if he was watching him, waiting for something. He had sat at his side and silently accepted the bottle Cassidy offered him.

“Why you askin' that.” there was movement next to him, but he didn't dare to peek. “Found a pretty girl? Got tired of blood?”

The soft clicking of the lighter followed by the exhaled of a cigarette. He was sure Jesse wasn't a good preacher at this point. Would he try to be one if Cassidy told him what was on his mind?

“Now Padre, Jus’ yer know Vampires need more than pretty ladies and blood to survive.”

He must be drunk already, he was about to mourn his Irish pride but sees the various bottles at his feet. There must be enough to drunk a horse, it is even a miracle he hasn't said anything at this point.

“Ain't buyin’ you drugs again, Cass.”

Cassidy lets his head fall in the back of the pew, followed by a sigh. Jesse turns to him, and Cassidy stops his movements, not knowing if to watch dark eyes or plump lips.

“Tell me Cass.” Jesse exhales, there is a slur on his words, similar to the way his lips expulse the smoke from the cigarette between his fingers. “What d'ya need then?”

_You._

“Oh, the charitable preacher. Who would know.” He gazes off and to the front, but he can feel eyes on him. “Believe me, Padre. Ah've done many things yer wouldn't want ter know. _This_ one too, and 'ere is not exactly the place ter tell”

“Then let's go somewhere else.”

Cassidy turns so fast he isn't sure if the spinning is the cause of that, or the whiskey is just catching up.

“Somewhere else?”

“Yeah, Got sold a confessional booth yesterday. Then got done scold because that's apparently Catholic, which I think we ain't that kind o'church?” There is a squint of eyes, Cassidy knows he does that when he is trying to remember. “Half a month of budget in that old thing might as well use it”

Cassidy lets out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. A mix of disappointment and relief alleviate his tense shoulders. He shakes his head, with it the thought of the insinuation, the mouthful of whiskey he takes helps.

“Ye got scammed?” He gives an amused laugh, raising the bottle in his hand “Now thet's the Padre I know.”

Jesse lifts himself up, stumbling on his feet, fingers still grabbing the whiskey by the bottleneck. His hair is disheveled, wrist passing on the corner of his mouth to clean his beard. Cassidy watches him, until he realizes he should stand up too.

The world blurs for a second as he forces to push himself off the pew, he is falling and goes grab the nearest thing possible. Which happens to be the one he wants to avoid more.

“Lightweight ay?” Jesse laughs, his own hand goes to Cassidy’s back, giving him a hard pat. “Hard to believe comin' from you.”

He must have a little more than Cassidy has thought, he never shows affection like this. He wants to get his palm off the soft black dress shirt, but Jesse pulls him closer, a small chuckle present as both equal drunkenly walk. Jesse drags him, Cassidy's worn out shoes trying to catch up the steps.

The confessional booth is old, but is hand carved on wood. Cassidy doubts a second before entering the penitent side. He sits in the pew, he hadn't been in one of these since he was actually human, maybe not that long but the room starts feeling strangely familiar. The confessional screen opens abruptly.

He swallows, breathing in before he talks to the silent side.

“Forgive me father, for Ah've sin” Cassidy says playfully, he knows the words too well. “My last confession was 100 years ago.”

“What you do?” Jesse exhales, he can hear a mix of amusement and curiosity on it.  “An' I mean right now, ain't got time for all your shit.”

He hears a lighter click on the other side, there is smoke coming from the screen. Cassidy takes a chunk of his half-full bottle. There is silence for a moment.

“I think-” he lets the alcohol speak for himself. “I think, I've fallen for someone, padre.”

And he finally tells him. Not in the right way, but Cassidy speaks it out loud, the weight he had been carrying is lifted from his shoulders.

Since the first time they got drunk together. The time they passed jailed, and he decided not to kill Jesse to escape. He knew he was fucked when he felt a sting on his chest.

He didn't think he would have so much devotion for someone anymore, so much respect for a person in such little time. Maybe he doesn't pay rent, or fix the _goddam_ _n' air conditionin_ ', or even assist around the church, but he tries to help. Making jokes around, trying to lift the preacher up when there is a furrow of eyebrows, or clenching of jaw when he comes back in the dawn to the church were Cassidy has been trapped around all day. Maybe Jesse has to bear with Cassidy in the basis, considers him a parasite for all he knows, a burden.

Or that's what Cass thought of himself.

_I like having you around._

“Is that a bad thing?” Jesse asks confused. He must not know.

Of course he doesn't.

There is a bitter laugh coming from his lips, he takes a swing of his whiskey to calm down the aching of his throat.

“Ye know, we're not just compatible, padre.” Cassidy leans his head into the wood, sighing. He must stop talking now before it's too late “I almost got them killed once.”

That time in the church, the _first week_ of meeting him. Even if at the end it wasn't his fault, it reminded him they were people trying to murder him in the basis. At first, he thought of killing Jesse and taking his money so he could continue his journey in a less sunny place.

This was the reason he never stayed in a place too long. But would he trade it again for the lonely drug-abuse life he had?

“I think you're a nice guy, Cass.” The preacher tells him from the other side. He closes his eyes at that, head resting on the wall. “Whoever they is I think they'd be lucky to have you, even with the whole 'I almost gotcha killed' stuff. I certainly wouldn't care, you had to bear with my shit.”

Cassidy runs a hand through his mouth and covers it, trying to calm himself. In the praise, in the pain the mix in a bittersweet feeling.

“Aye, cheers to that.”

“An' all of this-” Jesse exhales, a new cloud of smoke passes through the screen to his side. “Who's the lucky one who stole your heart?”

Jesse chuckles but is to ease the curiosity and the tension of the question.

“Naw, mate.” Cassidy laughs, going for another swing but the bottle is empty. He huffs in frustration laying it on the pew.

“Come on, it ain't some middle school secret no more.”

“Padre, I won't tell ye.” Even he feels the whiskey from earlier starting to make his vision blur, it's the thing he is most aware of. “Yer better drop it, instead we can talk about-”

“You won't tell me, eh?” Jesse teases. “You sure?”

“Yes I'm sure, why yer kee-” Cassidy stops, his smile falls.

There is a _click_ , and now he's shaking slightly, heartbeat going faster. He jumps to protest, hands going to the confessional screen, he can only see a shadow at the other side.

“Don't. Jesse, don't you dare use Gen-”

**“Confess, Proinsias.”**

There is that force. That makes his mouth speak on its own, that makes him think about all he tries to repress. Cassidy moves his hands to cover his mouth, but then his arms move them again. He wants to scream, but he is afraid he will speak. He knows he will talk, doesn't matter his attempts.

He is breathing hard, clenching his jaw when he feels his muscles trying to move. He falls. The bottle of whiskey crashes at his side. Where the floor is, and he bites the wood down with his teeth, nails scraping it to stay there, but he is rising again. He panics.

_He will tell him. He will confess, he will confess._

His lips start to move without his permission, is not the same way as the alcohol, in which makes it easy to talk. He could at least control not saying that.

“I-lov-” Cassidy bites his tongue until he can feel blood on it, his voice is breaking “I love ye Jesse C-custer.”

_He can't stop, he can't stop._

Cassidy can't hear sound from the other side, there are tears running on his cheeks. He can't stop now, there is something that keeps the thought flowing through his head and out to the air, but now Jesse is hearing.

“I haven't had someone who cares, who _cared_ for me, and well, ye just, when you are around I feel like there maybe is a reason to keep going other than sex and drugs. Maybe I'm enough for someone, and I want you to be that someone cos you make me feel like it. You were the one I was talking about, and you didn't even realize it.”

He rests his forehead in the wood, breathing hard, heart beating fast, and he just stays there. Trying to listen for signs of Jesse, a gasp, a curse, even a whisper of disgust will be enough. Just that he is there, that maybe he hasn't done what Cassidy always does. Run away.

There is silence in the confessional booth.

Then the sound of a curtain opening. _His_ curtain, from the other side. Jesse is leaving and Cass moves to recline himself into the surface, lets himself fall until he is on the floor. He passes a hand through his hair until he is gripping it.

Then there is the sound a curtain opening. _His_ curtain, from his side.

There are footsteps towards him, he can feel a person standing and watching him from where he is sat.

Cassidy doesn't turn, lets his legs close to his chest and his head in between them. He knows. Jesse knows.

“Cass-”

“Good joke, eh lad?” His voice is muffled by his arms. He chokes out the words. “Who would think I was immune to Genesis mate, they better watch out-”

“Cassidy-”

“Got ye there. Wish I could’ve seen yer face, you must be so-”

There is a hand moving his head, face forced up. Gently, almost as if it was afraid too. The hand is warm in his skin, cold and pale and not used to the summer heat that now has died out in the night. They watch each other for a few moments. Cassidy not knowing what to say, just stares at dark eyes.

“You feel that 'bout me?”

Cassidy looks away.

“Yer forced me to, now yer know.” he mumbles.

Why hasn't he gone already, why can't he leave him alone and needs to torment him further?

The hand moves his gaze back to him. He looks up, and there the flash, a moment he is looking at dark eyes, blurred vision from the tears that still are in. There is a gasp, a gentle smile, the confusion in his eyes. And he can see him, he can feel the calloused hand softly on his cheek, guiding him.

And this time he feels soft lips press into his own.


	2. Chapter 2

His lips.

They are like he imagined, but so much more.

Soft, demanding, pressing them harder.

His hands.

They push the preacher, to the wall. They go to his hair, to his neck, and he is not stopping. He has waited so long for this, a month, three? And now it finally feels his mouth on his own, and the other man doesn't seem to mind.

“Easy 'ere Cass” Jesse laughs, breathing hard when he forces himself out from his lips.

Cassidy pushes him to the pew, the preacher gasps. Is not a second after that he is sitting on his lap, resting his thighs on muscular legs, arms on his shoulders. Jesse's hands go immediately to grip his inner thighs. Dark eyes watch him intently.

“Sorry but-” Cassidy grins, relief in his eyes when he looks down to the man. “Ah've wanted to do that since I first saw ye in that pub”

Jesse's hands go to rest softly on his hips, a thumb caressing exposed hipbones from his ridden up pastel shirt. He sees his Adam's Apple move, the preacher plump lips now red by the treatment he gave it to them.

“You look like a goddamn horny teenager” Jesse chuckles.

“Oh, Padre, but oi'm not the one with a hard on pressing in someone else's arse”

Jesse's smile turns into a thin line, mouth opening to make a remark but Cassidy presses his lips on them again. Jesse groans in the kiss, but he lets his head dip back, allowing better access. Cassidy feels a hand go inside his shirt, tracing up to his stomach and back down again. He hasn't done this in a while, kissing, but his mouth and tongue seem to remember.

Cassidy starts moving his hips at that, rolling in a familiar rhythm. Makes use of the preacher's shoulders to move, Jesse groans before biting his lips. He swallows a witty remark in how Jesse is equally desperate, if not more than him. But he doesn't want to get his mouth off him, no one wants.

His hands stop their path on his body to position on pale hips. Rubbing Cassidy's ass into the bulge of his dress pants.

“I want ter to do something else besides that” Cassidy stops, a grin on his lips that make the preacher narrow his eyes.

“ 'nd what's that?” he starts to slowly rub Cassidy's ass into him.

Cassidy traces his hands on Jesse's stubble before he gets off his lap. He swears he can hear a small whine, hands still on him when he gets up. Cassidy lets himself go down, not once taking his eyes of the dark ones watching his.

“Get ta my knees” And he does. They hit the wooden floor from the confessional booth.

Cassidy looks up, and Jesse is breathing hard, chest rising, mouth slightly opened in anticipation. Jesse watches him, and Cassidy smiles once more, before his fingers go to the preacher's belt, unbuckling, undoing the buttons, his zipper. He can see the outline of his cock in his boxers, staining already precum on the front.

Jesses head hits the wall. Cassidy takes him on his hand, sticks his tongue flat out and licks his length. Mouthing the side of his member with his mouth from base to top. Eyes not once leaving his. Jesse bites his lip, shaking hands resting on the pew, not knowing what do with them. _Fuck, he is really good at this._ The way his lips and tongue seem to move along him, the swirl with his tongue around the head of his cock. His thighs, his legs are shaking in an attempt to not force Cassidy's mouth further into his cock. Not because of Cass, he is pretty sure the vampire wouldn't mind, but for how desperate he would seem.

And that was only teasing, Cassidy hasn't actually begun tormenting him.

“Aye, doing alright there, padre?” Cassidy says, while he pumps his cock mere inches from his mouth.

“Would be, if you actually were putting it on ya mout-”

The rest of his words are replaced by a moan. Cassidy swallows his whole length in one motion, shutting him up, making his hands grip slightly on brown hair. Cassidy is choking, his lungs ache, but Jesse doesn't have to know that. He just takes him more, beginning bobbing his head up and down, in a rhythm he knows and sets. He is out of practice these past months, so what he can't reach, for now, he wraps it around his hand and strokes it.

He opens his eyes, Jesse is out of breath, forcing his eyes closed and look anywhere but the sight of Cass wrapping his lips around his cock. He grabs the roots on his hair, and pulls when Cassidy does _that thing_ when his tongue passes through his head. Cassidy moans, sending vibrations that make Jesse whine. He has to admit, he loves this new sight of the preacher.

“Cass-” Jesse chokes out, Cassidy hollows his cheeks harder. The grip on his hair tightens. “Quit it, or Ah'm goin' to-”

Cassidy lets go his cock with a loud pop.

He is up on his feet, already undoing his broken down zipper from his jeans. Jesse looks up to him, dark eyes. Obscurer than the shadows the closed up booth cause, than the dress shirt he wears, his beard, his hair. Cass is on his lap once again, but this time the preacher's pants and boxers are on his knees.

Cass runs his fingers on Jesse's hair, before the other man's hands are going to his shirt. He lifts his arms up, helping the garment off him, and now he is displayed naked in front of him, of this supposedly  _holy man_ , that is watching him like he is the thing he wants the most.

“Cass-” Jesse bites his tongue, but Cass stops moving his hips. A small smirk threatens to form, while he watches the preacher struggle with his words. “Jus' quit teasing and-”

Cass grabs Jesse on his hand, the man shutting his protests. He breathes hard, Jesse takes initiative and directs his fingers to Cass' mouth. The vampire opens wide his eyes in surprise, and Jesse shoves them in further. The hand on his cock, tightens his grip. Jesse can feel the teeth, the _fangs,_ passing on his fingers with a mix of tongue. Cass closes his eyes, while he enjoys them choking on him.

But it's not long before the fingers on Cass' mouth stop and pull out. His eyes fly open annoyed when he feels them circling around his hole.

“Aye, wait” Cass wraps his hand around Jesse's arm, looking up to him to the confused man. Cass grins, hand blindly searching on the floor his clothes, his pants, and brings them between them. He checks his pockets and finds various packets of lube.

Jesse raises an eyebrow.

“Oi'm a 119-bloody-year old vampire” Cass opens one with his teeth, for then to pour it on Jesse's hand, on his still wet fingers with his saliva. “Course I carry fuckin' lube”

Jesse snorts.

“Vampire?” Jesse's fingers return where they were, hand on Cass' hip. “You're a damn horny teenager.”

Cass is about to defend himself, when a finger enters him. It's slow, almost as if Jesse doesn't want to hurt him, _has he forgotten he is immortal so quickly?_ When Cass looks up, realizes Jesse is watching him, almost as if taking if there is a hint of discomfort on him.

Cass kisses him. One, two, fingers. He moves his hips slightly, until he is panting and realizes Jesse is too. He is not used to someone caring for him, especially Jesse. Cass knows maybe he does, deep down his prideful ass, but now the touches are starting to roughen instead the gentle treatment in preparing him. Cass likes that more, not knowing what they are doing exactly means. At least for himself.

Jesse takes his fingers out of him. He positions his ass into him, grabbing Jesse. He slowly sinks in, taking him in. Jesse's fingers are on his hips, further stopping? Or for him to go faster in the agonizing pace? Cass silently smirks, watching the preacher exhale, biting his lips, but his nails dig into Cass' hips.

“Fuckin' _God_ -” Jesse manages to choke, when he enters him all the way in, ass touching his thighs. “ _Cassidy_.”

Cass represses the whine, but at last he gives in. Jesse fills him so fucking _good_. The lube making it easier for both. He clenches around him on purpose, the preacher whining, closing his eyes. The tight heat surrounding his cock must be too much for him, if Cass can feel it twitch inside him with every little movement he makes.

“Can't believe yer still dressed” He grasps his dress shirt, hips moving slightly. Jesse's hair sticks on his forehead, tongue running over his lips.

Cass is unbuttoning the preacher's collar, undoing until it falls on the pew.

His senses are coming, the ones he represses most of the time. The animalistic side of him when he needs to rip someone's throat apart for just to drink their blood. They focus in his pulse, with the help of his fingertips on his skin, he can hear blood pumping through his veins. And Jesse's neck is a few inches from his teeth.

He doesn't want to give in, and he is glad when Jesse moves his hips into him. He can be awfully desperate sometimes, that time in the church when Cass didn't want to give his alcohol and Jess fought for it. Cass knew how stubborn the preacher was even before that, when he planned to knock him out, then steal wallet and car keys.

This time, Cass moans too, trying to ignore the now exposed neck, tongue tracing in his fangs impatiently. Jesse raises his hips upwards, until Cass finally moves. He lifts himself, hearing Jesse groan, and then letting himself fall back down. The pew, the old wood from the confessional booth gives a creek with the movement.

He dares put his tongue on the preacher's neck and traces it, then mouths it, until teeth are grazing the unbitten skin.

**“Give in”**

His mouth unconsciously leans towards it.

And the blood is addictive. He can taste the alcohol on his tongue in another way. On the blood that fills his mouth and taints his lips, stains his teeth, and drips from his chin. Jessidy is moaning, he can feel it in the way the muscles on his throat tense. Cassidy has to hold him down, and it takes a minute for him to realize that Jesse is pushing himself towards his mouth, opened, teeth sharpened and ripping the skin apart.

There are gasps, his senses overwhelming, by the smell of blood that he hates, but from Jesse is another thing. He gets drunk from it on the air, on his mouth, mixing more alcohol with what he already has on his own. He laps his tongue into the wound, sucks more until Jesse is whining, and Cassidy can't stop his mouth.

His pale torso is covered, his legs do an effort to move himself. He needs to stop, he really does. Genesis has ordered him to give in, and he tries to trick himself into thinking another thing, but he bites his more. He has always wanted this, when Jesse was unconscious the first time he meets him and dragged him back to bed.

**“Stop”**

Cass’ fangs part from his neck. He breathes hard, swallowing the blood that still remains in his mouth.

“Ye sure love usin' that on me” Cass smiles, red teeth showing to the preacher, chin still dripping with the thick liquid.

Jesse brings his hand to his neck, and finds the ripped skin is already closing. Everything about Cass, including his saliva, now permits him to heal, and yet he always finds himself destroying his body. Cass gives a smug smile, but his palm stains in red.

“Fuck me” Jesse passes his wrist on his hair, trying to get it out of his face, but instead staining his tanned skin.

“More?” Cass is still moving, he can feel a hand still forcing his hips to do it. “Oi'm not sure yer would take more of it”

Jesse thrusts hard into him, Cass whimpers, closing his eyes. His bloodied hands go to his stubble, the preacher's shirt halfway on his shoulders. Cass starts to lift himself again.

**“Faster”**

Cass is panting, trying to keep up, his cock bouncing with the trusts. Jesse moves too, mouth inches from his chest. Cass whines, teeth present on his nipples, tongue soothing them. His back arches, but strong hands on his spine bring him more into Jessie's mouth.

 **“** ** _Faster_ ** **”**

Until he is repeating the word over and over. Cass moves his torso, his legs, an attempt to fulfill the voice that invades his mind. But can't keep with it. Cass recognizes the glint in his eyes, the small smile disappearing in his stubbled jaw. He is not the only one who can lose it with power.

Cass feels himself close, the constant trusts on his prostate bringing him on edge. The pace is more erratic, even Jesse's voice is becoming messy. He is close, as Jesse is too. One hand sneaks towards his cock, but it's slapped away when he tries to jerk off.

“I'm going to-” Cass chokes out, warning him.

He finishes throwing back his head, staining both of their stomachs. Jesse soon follows, grabbing his hips and giving a final trust. He feels filling him up, Cass whimpers resting his forehead on Jesse's chest.

They stay like that, trying to catch their breaths, Cass feeling the heat of the preacher below him, until Jesse starts to move again. Cass feels a wave of disappointment.

“Cass, get off.” Jesse says, and Cass forces his legs to move despite the soreness starting to make itself present.

He falls in the pew beside him, there is silence in the confessional booth. Cass closes his eyes, trying to make his thoughts after this. This is the most difficult part for him, the aftermath. Not the ideal thing getting attached and wanting to stay overnight on night stands. He glances at Jesse on the corner of his eye, he had kissed him. Cass confessed to him, but he isn't sure still.

“You ruined my shirt” Yet still Jesse is buttoning it, and it's true, stained with blood and other things. Cass flushes, taking in all what he has done, how he has let himself go and ruined everything again.

“Sorry about the bloo- the place, 'ill clean up later” Cass manages to find his jeans, and starts putting them in. “Sorry, oi 'ill. Just-”

He is starting to raise, when there is a hand stopping him.

“Ay, Cass” Jesse begins, biting his tongue. He raises from the pew, hand releasing Cass' and dropping his own to his side. Cass looks down. “ 'Bout what happen'-”

“We can pretend nothing 'appened, it's okay padre, Ah've done it before” Cass turns again but sees Jesse struggle with his words.

The confessional booth smells of old wood, Cass rests his shoulder in the doorway.

“No, Cass” Jesse moves his hands, gesturing franaticaly. Cass stares at him. “You just _confessed_ _t'me_ , like a high school girl. Can you just run away when ya told me those things?”

Cass swallows, eyes moving up and down to look at him, at the preacher who is looking at him desperately and angry, frustrated with the vampire and himself. Cass shifts under dark eyes staring at him.

“So when yer kissed me-”

“Yes _, fuck_ , Cass” Jesse sighs, running a hand over his hair, but running it more.

He takes a moment, blinking, just trying to process it. And then he snorts, smiling. 

_How stupid had he been, how lucky has he gotten._

He doesn't know why he does that, maybe to alleviate the anxiety and tension between them. Seconds later, he hears Jesse chuckle a few distance from him. The small wrinkles forming in the preacher's eyes, moonlight the one hitting from his side.

Cass fights the urge to kiss him, and then realizes he doesn't have to.

Not any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Kudos and Comments validate my existence.  
> 


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